Name Brand
by P.L.S
Summary: AU At age 11 he is given a choice, and this time it might not follow the plans that were made ten years ago by the Order.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Name Brand

Author: P.L.S.

Rating: PG

Warning: Severe AU spoilers for all six books and my insanity.

Summery: Harry has a choice in his eleventh year now that he has a life that he doesn't hate.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Author's Note:

---ooOo Part One oOoo---

It all started with an advert in the paper on Saturday, a drunk driver, and a faulty street light in Harry's sixth year of life. Up until that point his life was not in the least exciting, but he was learning quickly not to count on anything from his family. He wasn't in the accident, rather he was in the backyard of the house doing whatever his Uncle Vernon told him to do as quick as he could. It was his Aunt Petunia and cousin, Dudley, who were coming back from London that afternoon and blind sided by a speeding car who forgot the to treat the broken light as one would a stop sign.

The news came to his uncle just as they were putting away the gardening tools and ignoring the fact that despite everything between them the day had been peaceful. A policeman from one of the suburbs closer to London had let himself in and tapped Vernon on the shoulder. Vernon handed the screwdrivers to Harry and roughly told him to put them away in the proper slots then ushered the grim looking man back inside and Harry quietly did his job as quietly and correctly as he could. He had a feeling that he needed to stay as far away from his uncle as he could manage that night, so he kept rewinding the ropes and the hose, straightening the tools, and checking over the flower beds just planted.

That night Harry watched the windows as his uncle raged and took out his anger and pain upon the house that his aunt had worked so hard to decorate. The next morning before the sun rose, Harry went in, put on a fresh set of clothes, and cooked the best breakfast he knew how to before he started cleaning what he could. It was Sunday, so he didn't have to go to school. When his uncle came downstairs, puffy eyed and in yesterday's clothes, Harry gave him a quiet good morning and went back to sweeping up the glass on the floor.

The next day strange people were in and out of the house, some were neighbors with casseroles and pies, some were people in suits who talked like Uncle Vernon did during business dinners, others were people Harry had a bad feeling about and he tried to tell his uncle to just get rid of them. But then Aunt Marge burst in without Ripper and Harry knew that she would help his uncle. It didn't take long for her to clear the people who felt wrong away, to settle the business people's questions, and she knew all the right words to say to the neighbors.

It was Aunt Marge who taught Harry the very basics of cooking decent dinner and teatime meals and made him promise to keep her brother on a schedule and to keep the place in order. She arranged for the dry cleaner two streets over to come every week, pick up the dirty laundry, and have it back in two days. She also made sure that Vernon was part of a carpool and that little bit of duty would keep him from trying to stay in bed and retreat from his life. She also took Harry out for new clothes and glasses, seeing as how he was going to be in public a lot more and taking care of her little brother. She also helped Harry to turn Dudley's old spare room into a comfortable bedroom. But she left after a month of keeping both of them together and in the end they fell back upon the schedules she crafted.

Monday through Friday they both spent their days at work and school, with Harry coming home as a latchkey child and cleaning and cooking until his uncle came home and ate the light tea Harry had gotten very good at making. Then after making sure they had lunches in the icebox for the next day, Harry did dishes and his homework while his uncle read or did minor repairs or yard work until the sun was gone. At night Vernon watched the news or his programs while Harry tried to sew or to draw. They didn't talk until Saturday, when Harry would ask his uncle if he wanted to try a new dish or make other alterations to the rather standard shopping list. Then Vernon would tell Harry to do some weeding or to cut the grass while he went out and did the shopping.

The only variations were the quarterly visits from Marge who would take them out one at a time and shop for new clothes and other larger purchases. Over time Dudley's room became less of shrine to the dead boy, and more of a study where the books, music, and computer was kept and used. Harry learned to use the computer for many things and slowly Marge's visits tapered off to once a year. Harry could either make or order all the clothes that they needed and often Harry dabbled in design, which Vernon didn't quite discourage.

Slowly, Harry lost his fears and Vernon lost the extra weight. Both were existing without too much contact, but traits from one often rubbed off on the other. With Harry cooking and making the menu up, the meals tended to be light and healthy things made of vegetables and fish or chicken. Dessert was something Harry didn't want to make and Vernon at first didn't care enough to want it, then later had gotten used to not having the rich things that Petunia had loved to create. Those changes along with doing gardening did a great deal of good for Vernon physically, and they also helped his moods a bit.

Harry had grown more assertive. After coming home to the third black eye in as many weeks, Vernon couldn't ignore that Harry needed something to change, but Vernon was at a loss at what he could do. It was that summer Vernon made Harry go to a day camp which offered martial arts as one of the activities along with the art classes that Vernon could tell Harry loved. He watched the boy go from scared and ready to hide, to a boy who held a quiet kind of confidence and a desire to learn more. Each year Harry went back to that day camp and when he was eight he also went to a kind of club after school for an hour a day.

It took time but both healed; Vernon from the loss of his family, and Harry from the damage that his last blood relatives had done to him. But at the end of Harry's fourth year in grammar school they were comfortable with each other and even talked like family at times. When Vernon saw the grades Harry had brought in he congratulated his nephew on his success at math and asked him what had happened to cause his grade in English to be less than stellar. They talked about various ideas about school; public was out for obvious reasons, private was still an option because of the advanced math class he had been taking which would not only help him get a place but also a scholarship to a technical school, state school was the most likely. But then Vernon started talking about selling the house and moving to the actual city of London.

He had been offered a place at another manufacturing firm and a much better paying position at that. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to change anything, but he also wanted his uncle to not hate him like he had before. In the end he and Vernon worked together to put together letters and applications for various private schools that either boasted of advanced programs in math or art. For the ones that went to art schools Vernon had a neighbor who was also a amateur photographer help Harry create a good portfolio of slides and photographs. They spent the year reading the letters and realizing that while Harry was brilliant with numbers, the fact that at his age he was doing using mixed media and clothing design was garnering them better scholarships and other offers from the art schools.

After the third letter from an art school which was rated as one of the best in the nation, both knew that moving to London was a good idea. The school was in the heart of the Soho and Harry made it clear that he wanted to be a day student. Vernon smiled when he heard that statement, over the years he had become fond of the boy and appreciated how much Harry did for him. They wrote to the school and after all the paperwork was done, during Christmas break, they went to London together and started shopping for a flat with space for Vernon's office and a workroom for Harry to use as a studio. It took time but by Easter Vernon had a place that was just right reserved and ready for the first week of summer when they would move out so that the new owners of Number Four could move in. They even made a deal to leave a great deal of the furniture which the new family wanted, and neither Vernon or Harry felt any loss at that.

They spent all of April and May packing, shopping for new furniture, and moving into the flat. By the time they had finished both were happy and felt feelings that were almost like the platonic love that most other families seemed to take for granted. In July, Harry found a new martial arts club and Vernon took up a few new hobbies as well as spent most of his weekdays repairing the damage that his predecessor did to the accounts with Harry advising him on trying to get a computerized system set up like the one Harry used to do household accounting. He admitted after a few tea time discussions that it would be easier to use, and it would help him in straightening out the odd mess that everything was in now. On the weekend he and Harry went out and did their shopping plus the shopping for the supplies that Harry's school required.

Now, to Harry his birthday was an abstract idea, it was just a date when his age changed to everyone else, but it wasn't celebrated. It was neither a good nor bad day, and like the other holidays, Harry shrugged it off. Neither he nor his uncle gave gifts to any set calendar, just whenever it felt right or when they felt like sharing. Before he had tried to explain it in a class discussion, but he had ended up more confused than before. His teacher then sent a note home and he and his uncle spent the next afternoon talking with the school's psychologist who kind of understood and apologized for the teacher's misunderstanding. That night Vernon asked Harry if he wanted to exchange presents on Christmas and birthdays, but Harry was content and still remembered days of no gifts. He was still thankful that his uncle cared in anyway about him.

And so Harry expected nothing of what happened on July thirty-first.

---ooOo Part Two oOoo---

"You didn't apply to this, did you?" asked Vernon as he looked over the letter Harry handed him at tea. Harry shook his head.

"No, I was hoping that you did, because the only schools I applied to were the ones you and I worked together on." Harry said as he took another cheese and tomato buttie. Vernon took a sip of his black tea and sighed.

"Do you want to go?"

"No, not even a little bit. We've both worked so hard to get ready for me to attend the Acadamy, why in the world would I throw everything away?" Harry said and Vernon's mouth twisted as he thought. Harry watched and absently took a bite of a pickle.

"Petunia, your aunt, told me a few things about your mother and her life... before. I didn't believe her, not really, I put it all out of my mind later on... I just wanted a normal life after everything, especially after that day. She was convinced that if we seeped you in mediocrity then you'd become more like us, less like your parents and their kind." Vernon awkwardly stummbled on, "I guess it didn't work."

"Er, I'm confused." Harry said and Vernon winced.

"So am I. I don't know how to tell you any of this. Petunia was brilliant at storytelling, it was why she was always such a busybody. I don't even know anything but a very skewed version that she told me the morning we found you freezing in a basket on our doorstep. She told me a very weird story of how her sister was a magical witch and how she was killed because of it. It made no sense at the time but Petuina was very clear on two points; the first being that she was not going to love you or allow Dudley to care about you because either the witches would turn you against her or you would be killed like your mother, the second was that the only way to save you was to stop you from being magical if we could." Vernon took a sip of tea while Harry tried to understand what his uncle was saying.

"Magic... is real?"

"Apparently. I don't know everything, but it sure seems to be." Vernon said. Harry looked at the letter again.

"Maybe they have a summer program." Harry turned to the envelope which didn't have a return address, "It would be nice to learn a little bit more about this all, and maybe about my mum, but I can not give up my spot at the Acadamy. I wonder, was this all paid for in advance? There isn't any informataion about cost."

"That is a question we need to ask along with a number of other things that a four line letter and list doesn't cover." Vernon frowned, "Where are we supposed to get an owl?" Harry laughed.

"This is so rediculous. I wonder just how many kids are sitting around asking the same questions... Ah, to hell with it."

"Language." Vernon rumbled in a fatherly tone. Harry smirked.

"Well, what else could I say? This is pointless to worry about now. Look, I'll write up a letter saying I decline the offer, request any money back, and ask about summer programs or locations close to home where I could go to weekend classes." Harry stood up, "Er, could you do dishes tonight? I want to get this done before my kenpo class, otherwise I'll be out of sorts and that always means me getting hurt."

"Sure. Go, I'm not doing anything much." Harry gave him a bright smile and collected all the parchment papers and went to the study where the only thing unpacked were the computer and printer.

Harry sat cross-legged with the keyboard in his lap and wiggled the mouse on the floor to 'wake' it up. It was awkward using the computer on the floor but in twenty minutes, after three false starts, Harry had a polite sounding letter to the Hogwarts school. He printed it off, signed his name, then stuck it in an envelope that he wrote 'Hogwarts' upon. His uncle knocked on the door and asked Harry to open the windows as it was a nice night and they needed to save energy.

Harry opened the window, then went to grab his gym bag and leave for the martial arts club. He didn't see the small spotted owl that came in and grabbed the letter and flew off to Hogwarts with it. In fact, the next morning both uncle and nephew had forgotten about the strange letter and other than Harry telling his uncle about how his sensei had surprised him by giving him a small good luck charm, nothing out of the ordinary happened that day. Vernon went to work and started researching accounting systems, Harry tried to get a head start on his litterature reading, but in the end went to a small park and people watched then joined in a small game of football with other kids his age. At dinnertime he went home, ate a salad and started to make a Japanese dish he found in a computerized cookbook for tea.

Harry was about to start to slice up the tofu when there was a knock at the door. That in itself was unusual because unless a person had a key, the door on the first level required you to call up and for someone on the inside to open the door. Harry had a bad feeling about it as the knock came again, louder this time.

He went to the door with his kitchen knife in hand and opened the door part way to see a tall man clothed in back glare at him the way that his Aunt Petunia used to. It was something that Harry never forgot about her and at times the only thing he could remember about her.

"Mr. Potter, I presume." the man's tone made Harry feel like the stupidest person on the planet as well as about two inches tall, "I am here to answer your questions about Hogwarts as well as tell you just why you can not say 'No.' to our offer." Harry winced as the man's voice indicated that not only did he think it was all a waste of time, but that he also hated Harry and had no problems with doing the talk with or without Harry's consent. Harry opened the door and held the knife ready.

"Er, come in. Sit down, and please wait. I need to phone my uncle and the police." At the sharp look Harry gave a weak smile, "Kidding... sort of... I just need to ring up my uncle. We can talk once he arrives and then you won't have to say everything twice." The man followed Harry to the living-dining room area and sat upon the couch that faced the kitchen area where Harry went to call his uncle's office from. Harry watched the man study the layout while he waited for the other end to pick up.

"Hello, you have reached the offices of..." the automated message started which Harry ignored to punch in his uncle's exstention.

"Dursley here." grunted his uncle's voice. Harry thought he sounded kind of tired, but still that man was scarier than his uncle being angry with him.

"Er, hi. It's Harry. A strange man is here. He says he's from that magic school and that I can't say no to going."

"Hm. They can't just kidnap you, and I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to. That can of pepper spray that Marge gave you, where is it?"

"The odds and ends drawer in the kitchen. Oh. So I shouldn't do anything or say much until you get home, but keep it handy?" asked Harry.

"Exactly. I'll try to get home early, but I have a big meeting coming up soon and I can't send a proxy or anything."

"Is it about the accounting programs?"

"Yes. I'm half tempted to come get you and have you do the talking. You know more about computers than I do."

"But not too much more. You're becoming a big expert. Good luck and don't worry about me."

"I'll ring up Mrs. Lordes."

"That old busybody? But she'll hound me forever and a day."

"But she also has the sharpest eyes and she thinks the world of you, boy." Harry sighed at the finality of his uncle's tone.

"Okay. Bye."

"Stay safe." said Vernon as he hung up. Harry told the man he was just going to put on a pot of tea. In the kitchen he did set up the tea service, but also pocketed a spray canister of pepper spray that Marge got from her local constiable to scare off wild dogs from her kennel where she bred bulldogs. She had an extra can and gave it to Harry one here last visit. It was illegal for him to have, but she wanted him to stay safe in the 'big, unforgiving city'.

The kettle whistled shrilly and Harry poured the water over his favorite blend of Oolong. He carefully carried the tray which was laden with small bread plates, biscuits, a few scones, some jam, and butter, along with the usual tea things like milk, sugar, cups, saucers, and everything else needed.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I just made some spiced Oolong." Harry said.

"That will be fine." said the man as he took the cup of tea that Harry poured for him. He put no sugar but a bit of milk instead.

"I'm just confused. I thought the letter was very clear on our thoughts and feelings about school. The whole reason we moved to London was for me to attend the London Acadamy of the Arts. I guess it was a bit stupid of my uncle and I to think that our voices mattered in issues of my education." Harry shrugged, "Oh well, do you teach at that magic school?"

"It is called Hogwarts, and yes, I do teach there." sneered the man.

"Oh." Harry took one of the gingerbread biscuits and dipped it into his tea, "You never did introduse yourself."

"I am Severus Snape, Professor and Master of Potions, Slytherin House Master, and the one sent to collect you for school."

"I see." Harry looked at the clock and saw that it was going to be at least an hour until his uncle came and tossed the man out. Harry almost thought that time was slowing down, just to trap him with this stranger. "Do you want to watch the tel..."

"No." snapped the man cutting him off, "I want to get out of this place and get back to preparing for the school term. It is only because I am the only one avaliable that I am here."


	2. Chapter 2

07/08/2007 13:58:00

Once upon a time there was a fic with only 3797 words. They were loved and they were 3797 words that got :

111 reviews

12254 page views

63 c2 reccomendations

63 people listing it as a favorite

and 207 people waiting with alerts for me to update this swan song of mine. It's just an AU started on a whim and it has been attempted to be continued many many times, to no avail.

But. . . here's what I got so far.

---

---ooOo Part Three oOoo---

Harry put his chin on his knees and looked up at the stars from the rooftop of the apartment block. Magic, real magic was possible and knowing magic seemed like fun. The courses sounded a sight more interesting than geometry, history, and literature, but when he asked about careers, about muggle studies, about anything other than the core classes he never got an answer that he could understand or that sounded like it made sense.

There weren't any foreign language classes. No way to bring in a tutor or anyone to help him keep up and take his GESE's or the A Levels. No way that he'd have time to work on art or even a computer class. The cons far out weighed the pros of going to the magic school and to top it off his uncle's sacrifice of changing jobs and moving away from his hometown would be for naught. Harry was not that ungrateful of a child.

The man, Snape, wasn't happy to of made the trip out only to get a maybe from Harry and his uncle was great about throwing him out when Harry had enough of the teacher.

However, his parents were magical. They both went to the school. They were famous in that society and he'd finally know more than their names and their death date. It was tempting just for that alone. Snape even gave him a bit of information. He looked like his father, but had the eyes of his mother. It was more than he ever knew about them and helped him to make a bit more sense of his dreams.

Harry threw his head back and sighed. He could see one future with relative clarity, but the other road was the stuff old ballads and huge fantasy novels were written about. What he needed was more information, even if it was a newspaper or just someone telling how his parents died. His uncle told him that he knew nothing more than it wasn't a natural death and that he survived whatever it was. Other than that, he knew nothing and just stuck with the old lie that they were killed in an auto accident when asked about them.

He had a feeling that the nightmare with the screaming, laughter, and the green flashes of light was the even that killed them, but was a little too unsure to ask questions. If it was the way they passed on, then they died because of magic and were probably killed by another. Harry stared at Polaris. Even though it was a guiding star, no answers were coming from his looking upon it.

He needed to get inside. Clouds were starting to creep in and the air was starting to smell like rain. To top it off the wind was blowing like an electric storm was coming through. The last thing he needed was to get caught on the flat roof where he was the tallest object for the lightening to hit.

Harry stopped before he stepped on the fire escape ladder, a storm wasn't predicted on the news. Rain wasn't supposed to return for another three days. He looked into the clouds, looking for some sign they weren't natural. They rolled in, blotting out the stars, slowly, but not too much so. Harry almost thought he saw a grin in the way they lit up with the lightening. He shook his head and climbed down as fast as he could to the open window in his room. He slammed it shut just as the wall of rain hit the apartment block and a loud thunderclap shook the old glass. Harry took two big steps away from the window and suppressed the urge to run and hide in a closet.

He had never minded the rain, but storms and lightening especially made him shiver. He hated that he was scared of thunderstorms but he had no idea how to fix himself. He never talked about the irrational fear because he had no need to worry his uncle over the trivial matter, nor did he want his uncle to know that he was still such a weak little boy. He sat on his bed, watching. He never could sleep through storms.

Vernon appeared in the morning looking fresh and ready for the day, Harry noted before turning back to the eggs and bacon he was frying up.

"So, you thought more about what that Snape fellow said?" asked Vernon. Harry looked over his shoulder and sighed.

"I thought it over, but honestly, I'm not sure I'm ready for fame and notoriety. I'm still thinking the Academy is my best choice." Harry responded then flipped the eggs onto a plate with baked beans waiting. He then walked it over and placed it in front of his uncle.

"Thank you, looks good." Harry was already back at the range, cracking two more eggs and pulling the bacon off. "Now, Snape mentioned that there are other schools for magic. Maybe Hogwarts isn't the only option."

"But if my parents didn't put my name elsewhere…"

"I agree, but if they have public schools then there must be other types too. We just need to find the right people to ask." Vernon said, pouring himself a cup of tea and milk. "But I have a feeling that anyone who works for Hogwarts or the government won't tell us diddly squat."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Before Snape left I had him explain the titles the Headmaster claims. The man's very powerful, politically speaking. The Wizagamot, that he's the head of, is kind of like a blend of the House of Lords, a high court, and they haven't got a House of Commons to balance things." Vernon said. Harry gently flipped his eggs and pursed his lips.

"So either I learn at Hogwarts or I don't. D' you think I could find a tutor? I know the accidents lessened when I started doing martial arts, but when I get stressed weird things happen and I'm kind of worried that I might hurt someone."

"I'll ask, but I'm thinking that we first need to find a way to talk to other wizards or write to the magical education agency anonymously and get more information."

"I'll look online. Maybe some person has a website about magic that isn't about a science fiction/ fantasy game." Harry said and flipped his eggs upon his plate and turned off the range before sitting down across from Vernon. "But if it comes down to the Academy or Hogwarts, I'm choosing the Academy, no contest."

"I understand." Vernon said before he took a bite of beans. Harry smiled and ate his bacon.

---

It's not much but it's the last I'll play with this fic for a spell, a good long spell. Thank you for reading, but this was just something that I could only come up with two solutions for and the other had been done to death.


	3. Chapter 3

03/07/2009 21:49:00

---ooOo Part Four oOoo---

Searching for signs of magic online was difficult. Nothing mentioned Hogwarts, wizards, owls, or anything beyond obvious hoaxes & fantasy. It was down right discouraging. Harry was ready to call it a day. He had sent his uncle off to work with a brown bag lunch and a cheery grin that didn't fool Vernon as much as Harry had hoped.

And now six hours later he was tired, hungry, and hadn't even found a mention of a Dumbledore, a school for magic, or even Owl Post. He had been hoping for even a post on a forum or a obituary to follow up on.

Harry stood up, and picked up the duvet and pillow he had been using as a buffer between himself & the hardwood floors. He made a mental note to start bugging Vernon to find him a computer desk or else. The sitting & laying on the floor to use the computer was getting old fast.

A sharp rapping on the door pulled him out of his internal whining. Harry, causious after the angry Professor Snape's visit yesterday, pulled out the pepper spray from the basket where they tossed in loose change & sets of keys, and looked through the peep hole.

He sighed, it was just old Mrs. Lordes, the gossip maven of the building.

Harry put the pepper spray in his pocket and opened the door with a slight smile, 'Hello, Mrs. Lordes."

"Oh, Harry-dear. So good to see you again. I just came over to return the biscuit tin. Your lemon-red currant scones were a hit with my bridge club. I was told not to come back without the recipe." The old woman handed him the floral tin and Harry stepped back to let her in.

"I was about to start a pot of tea, will you join me?" Harry asked as she took her hat and cardigan off and hung them up on the hooks on the wall.

"Oh, that would be lovely, Harry-dear. And you must tell me why your uncle rang me up yesterday evening." She said with a smile as she breezed into the kitchen area. Harry sat the tin on the counter and filled a kettle with water as she sat at the small table in the center of the room.

"Oh, yeah. Apparently, before my parents died, they put my name down for a public school that I'd never heard of." Harry turned on the burner and set the kettle down to heat up. "We got a letter from them a bit ago, and turned down the admission, as it wasn't the type of school that could teach me what I wanted."

He pulled out a Tupperware container of macaroons from the refrigerator and was about to go find a late to lay them out on, but Mrs. Lordes snatched the container out of his hands as he walked past. "Oh, sit down. You don't need to be fancy for my sake. And continue, dear." She said with a smile and a sharp glint in her eyes.

"Okay, well, yesterday, a representative of the school stopped by without warning."

"Well, that's rude."

"My thoughts exactly, but he would not leave without talking to Uncle Vernon and I about this school." Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I guess, this school's never really been rejected and didn't know how to give up. Also, it was the school that my mum and dad went to and met at & I was some kind of legacy or something."

"Well, that's nothing to sneeze at, but still, most schools call and set up appointments for things like that." She commented.

"I wouldn't know, but when I called my uncle he was busy, but concerned because this isn't the suburbs. He was worried about the man being some kind of loony or criminal, but didn't want to be too rude to the man if he was who he said he was."

"So, he asked me to keep an eye out for you." She nodded in approval and took a bite of a macaroon, "Oh, child you cook way to well. Are you sure you don't want to be a chef or a baker?"

"Thank you, but I love creating clothes so much more." Harry blushed at her complement. The kettle whistled, letting them know the water was warm. He stood and pulled the tea set out of the corner. "What type of tea for you today, ma'am?"

"Darjeeling, if you have it." Harry nodded and opened the tin of tea and went through the motions of preparing the teapot. It was a like a calming ritual, like a kata. "Your uncle was such a sweet man to think of me to watch out for you. I know you're so level headed and polite, but sometimes I worry that you're alone too much, dear. Especially, with him working all the time and you going in and out all day," She sighed, and Harry poured in the hot water, "Things aren't like they were in my childhood, where a kid was safe on the streets. You hear all kinds of horror stories on the news. I'm not saying you need a nanny, but if you wanted, I could match my shopping days with yours and we could keep each other company."

"That's a very kind offer, ma'am. But, wouldn't that be a bother for you?" Harry asked as he placed the tea service tray on the table. Mrs. Lordes took over then and started pouring the tea.

"Not at all, dear. Besides, I'm not getting any younger and Mr. Lordes, certainly, isn't any help. It would be nice to have a young man to help be carry my things." She said with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

"I see." Said Harry.

"Well, think about it. Now, did you hear about Kelly in 4e?" She grinned as she started into her favorite pastime, gossip over tea and biscuits.

---ooOo Part Five oOoo---

Harry made sure he was ready to go out, messenger bag with sketch book and pencils, camera, walkman with a few tapes and backup batteries, his wallet. Last but not least, he tugged on his favorite light woolen cap. Between the brim and his fringe, no one could see his eyes, or the scar that he had had for as long as he could recall.

It was a Tuesday, and he was fairly sure that the stores on Charing Cross Road wouldn't be too busy. Not to mention he hadn't been to the British Museum in at least a week.

"You're going to be careful, right?" asked his uncle. They were going to leave together this morning.

"Yes. I'll stay out of the alleyways and dumpsters. I'll also try not to vanish for too long into to the vintage clothing shops." Harry said with a slight grin. Vernon scowled.

"I mean it. I don't trust those wizards not to try something stupid, like kidnapping. But I know that I can't just keep you here and protect you." Vernon said with a note of worry in his deep voice.

"I do appreciate that & I will be aware of the world around me. I have my whistle and I have the pepper spray," he patted his trouser pockets, "I'm going to be on my guard today."

"Good." Vernon huffed, "Now, don't buy too many books again. We can't afford for you to bring home every art and photography book you see. You know our budget as far as a desk goes, so if you see something you like, go ahead and ask about delivery."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. I'll be practical about it too."

"Good."

"Um, if I can find both for under our budget, could I get both a desk and a drafting table too?" Harry asked.

"If they are of a descent quality and price, you may. I'll a lot an extra fifty if you find both the desk and a table you can use." Vernon opened his wallet and pulled out a credit card. "Here, just in case." Harry started to tuck the card into his wallet, when he noticed the name on it.

"Huh, but when did you?"

"You do most of the household stuff, and you are growing up. I just thought it was about time you had a way to access funds in case of an emergency." Vernon tried not to smile and treat it as if it were nothing. Harry grinned and hugged his uncle.

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon. I'll be careful."

"I know you will." Vernon said as he hugged his nephew back.


	4. Chapter 4

04/07/2009 09:54:00

---ooOo Part Six oOoo---

Harry smiled as he talked to a shop girl in a second-hand furniture shop.

"So, my uncle's job doesn't leave him with enough time to come with me. And with me starting school soon, I could really use some help finding just what I need." He said and Janet, the shop girl, nodded.

"Um, kay. So, what exactly are you looking for?"

"Well, I need a computer desk and I'd like a drafting table or something similar." She nodded.

"Do you know you budget & your room space?" Harry nodded.

"I've got about a hundred pounds and I need to pay for shipping to our flat. I might be able to swing for more, but that's the goal I'd like to aim for." Janet nodded and started thinking as she walked around; Harry followed her as she moved from room to room.

"I have an older roll top desk that's a 1950's mimic of a 1900's style. It's solid, but a bit banged up. We just got it from an estate sale in Exster." Janet said, "I'm not sure that it will suit for a computer desk, but it is reasonably priced."

"A roll top? But what about the monitor."

"Yes, that is my one reservation. I also have another relic from the 50's. It's one of those old steel office desks. It's huge, in an olive khaki type color, and heavy. But again solid and it would fit a computer. It's more expensive, but it will last forever." She said with a slight smile.

"Of those two, the second sounds the best. Can I see it?"

"Yes, just follow me." She led him deeper into the store and down a light of steps. It was dusty and had dark shadows creeping among the piles of chairs, tables, and boxes of bits of lumber. Harry loved the feel of it. It was like a cave of treasures to his eyes.

Janet stopped and pulled a few boxes off a desk and then pushed it out into the room a bit more. It was an ugly green, used, and scratched. There were slight bumps of old dents on the sides, and it was covered in dust.

"It's not really as bad as it looks." She said as soon as she saw his face, "Honest. It's a good piece."

"How much?" Harry asked.

"Seventy-five quid."

"I don't think so. It's so dirty and used-looking. Fifty I could understand, but not that much." Harry said with a scrunched up nose. He went around and tried to open the drawers. After he pulled he looked closer, they were locking drawers. All six of them. Odd. "What's with the locks?"

"Locks?" Janet sounded surprised. She came over to look. Her sugar sweet perfume was very evident with her as close as she was. "Oh. Just a second. I need to go ring up Mr. Jeremy." She then left him and ran upstairs. Harry sighed. He had hoped that this would be his only stop to look at furniture, but now it looked like he had to do some hunting.

He looked around and saw a barstool just a foot away. He grabbed a rag out of a box, and dusted the seat and tested its sturdiness. It held & he sat down, as it looked like Janet would be a bit.

The shadows & light were interesting. The odd shapes made by a mix of boxes and furniture in a sort of organized chaos was really cool to look at. Harry pulled out his camera and adjusted the shutter speed and turned off the flash. He also pulled out his mini-tripod and screwed the camera onto it.

He then adjusted the height and placed it on the old desk.

* Snick * He captured an old Windsor chair's silhouette and the bright brocade on a Victorian sofa on it's side.

* Snick * He captured a bare bulb in the corner, surrounded by darkness and with fingers of shade that looked like they were reaching up for it.

* Snick * The stairs, grey and leading out of the labyrinth of goods into the soft light of the shop above, with a rectangle of plywood, covering the door to the cupboard under the stairs.

* Snick * A pair of legs and a short skirt coming down the stairs with the mix of lighting sources casting wild shadows all over the place.

"Oh. Was I gone that long?" She smiled as Harry started to put away his camera and tripod. "Sorry."

"You don't mind right?" Harry asked, "I can't sell them or anything. And I would only use them as jumping off points."

"No, I don't mind. You're going to art school, yeah?"

"Right." Harry gave a sharp nod.

"Cor. I always wanted to go to art school." Janet grinned, "In any case. We don't have keys to the desk. So Forty-five quid, and if you like any of the drafting tables, free shipping."

"Er, okay. That's a good deal. Got any good drafting tables?"

---ooOo Part Seven oOoo---

Harry was tired. Janet had found him a good drafting table and chairs for both for one twelve and some odd change. He had a delivery date in three days and he only had to go to one furniture shop.

But he had spent all of his morning there. Which was rather disappointing as it was a lovely day. He was a bit away from the places he normally frequented and just wanted a meal and maybe an iced lolly or something sweet.

He frowned. He was next to a closed-for-lunch music store and a closed-for-lunch bookshop. He closed his eyes and tried to think, there had to be a food vendor somewhere.

He opened his eyes and saw a door he must have missed. It looked to be an older pub. He knew he wasn't supposed to go into pubs and bars, but he did need some directions.

"Oh, Uncle Vernon will yell if he finds out about this." Harry muttered under his breath as he went in.

He was quickly sure, that this was not a normal pub. After all, he was fairly sure that green bumps on the face were not a normal skin condition. Especially, when they spelled out 'Loser'.

"Oh, don't mind them, sprat." Said a kindly voice to his right, "That's just a new card game that the kids are trying out. I'm Tom."

"Er, Harry." Harry sighed, "I was just wanting directions to the nearest café or ice cream parlor."

"Sure, pleasant day out. You might as well eat outside while the weather's cheery." He said with a nearly toothless grin, "Follow me." He led Harry through the bar and into a small yard with a brick wall. Then Tom pulled a short thin stick out of an apron pocket and tapped in a pattern on the wall. The bricks moved aside and a whole busy shopping district was beyond it.

"Wow."

"Never seen Diagon before, eh? Well, sprat, you might want to go to the exchange at Gringott's first, but the Green Pony Café is that way, " He said pointing to the left. "And Fortanscue's Frozen Treats is this way," he pointed to the right. "Both are hard to miss."

"Thank you, sir."

"No trouble at all young Harry. Remember, go to the exchange first, or you won't be doing any shopping." Tom patted him on the head and went back into the pub.

"Well, this is different." Harry said to himself as he stepped out into the bright open area. He hoped he had enough film, because he was taking photos of everything here. Not to mention doing sketches, because everything in this section was just fantastical.

Then it hit him. This was all the magic that creep had talked about, and that letter the creep gave him. This was their section of London, and here he wasn't safe. Uncle Vernon was sure that the creep and the school the creep worked for wouldn't let him say no without a fight.

And he had just put himself on their home field.

"Uncle Vernon is going to kill me."


	5. Chapter 5

27/07/2009 20:27:00

--ooOo Part Eight oOoo--

Harry frowned as he entered the bookshop. Flourish & Blot's was a fantastically designed shop, as well as very lovely, but it was not well marked. Harry was not in the mood for a whimsical place. At this moment he craved the well marked and known format of Borders.

He had visited Gringott's, as was recommended to him by the old barkeep. Then he had looked around in a few shops, most were not well marked, and he was tired of the eccentricities of this culture. It was hard to get anything done when nothing made sense and the few shopkeepers who were about to explain got interrupted by other patrons who were older than him and obviously were going to spend money. It also didn't help that not one person thought he was above age nine.

So Harry had declared the shopping area a bust and went to the one shop he knew he had to visit. But to his disappointment, but not surprise, the bookshop was just like everything else.

"Great." He muttered to himself. Despite his unhappiness with the situation, he went to the clerk at the main desk and cleared his throat when he was ignored for a minute.

"Oh, hello." Said the young man in a surprised tone, "Sorry, just catching up on the ledger. How may I help you?"

"I need a few books on the magical school system and magical culture. And the day's newspaper. My uncle's owl has a bit of a vendetta against him right now." Harry asked. He had quickly picked up on this bit of magical culture. The clerk blinked then laughed.

"Oh, my da's owl, Aggie, ruined his mail for a week because da had tried to change his food. We learned right quick to always ask before doing stuff like that again."

"Well, Uncle Vernon had just made a suggestion that Doris maybe needed a younger owl around to give her a break, at breakfast, just as she was bringing him the paper. She delivered it, in pieces." Harry said with a grin.

"Ah, that would do it. Now, for your books." He looked about and flagged another younger man.

"Yeah, Ossie?" he said.

"Need you to man the desk for a spell, this young man needs a few books from the non-Hogwarts non-fiction section."

"M'kay."

"Thanks, Iggy." Ossie walked toward the steps and Harry scurried to follow.

"Okay, now, as far as wizarding culture goes, do you need Pureblood manners, Muggle versus Wizard, artistic critiques, Muggleborn guides, or something else entirely." Ossie asked .

"I want to know why goblins run the bank, why most shopkeepers don't organize things by type like they do in muggle shops, why people are scared to name a terrorist, and why people cluck over muggles as if they're very slow children." Harry said and Ossie laughed.

"Gotcha." With that he started to climb the ladder and started muttering. He was too far away to hear him, but he thought he caught, "One last one… curse… stopped printing… idiots… "

Ossie pulled out a thick book and then slid down the ladder with the book cradled to his chest. He then gave it to Harry with a triumphant smile.

"After the Inquisitions: a look at the divergent points of mundane and magical British culture." Harry read aloud.

"Yeah, there were like a hundred of these printed, and most were destroyed because it was tagged as subversive, but it is accurate and very well written and researched." Ossie said.

"Okay, so, they don't believe knowledge is meant to be shared." Harry said slowly. Ossie nodded.

"But you might want to keep that quiet. And may I recommend another book, recent history. That is very important as well." Ossie said with a frown, "The last fifty years have seen a major cultural shift and two wars caused most of it."

"Okay." Harry said.

--ooOo Part Nine oOoo—

Vernon was silent the next few days after Harry told him of the magical shopping district. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. The man woke up ate breakfast and went to work without even saying 'Good bye,' to Harry. He came home ate dinner and read the books that Harry had picked up. It was unnerving to the child.

He hadn't been in any serious trouble with his uncle since That Day. So, he wasn't sure what the silence meant. However, Harry wouldn't be surprised if he was in very big trouble because he was sure that the warnings from Mr. Snape's visit were still fresh in the man's mind.

Snape had made it very clear that his magic could get very dangerous if not trained. He had also said that if a 'Muggle' family with a moderate to powerful wizard refused to train said child, it was very possible that their governing body would take the child and could even make it so that the family and child forgot about each other.

In other words, 'Do as we say or you'll wake up one morning with no kid and no legal recourse.' The man had also casually vanished out of the house with a soft 'pop' at the end of the visit, making it very clear that locks and security systems wouldn't help a bit. It was a very scary prospect, but he did not want to give up all his hard work and his uncle's sacrifices to go off to a public boarding school.

With just that conversation, it was very clear why they very rarely had a refusal. Parents would rather let their children go off to a school so remote that there wasn't any access other than a train that the school ran, than have their children vanish in the night. At least the child could write at will and visit for winter, spring, and summer hols.

But add the conversation to the information from the books that he had been reading, the magical culture was not something Harry liked. The more the boy learned, the more he feared it. It was rife with examples of memory altering, unwanted spell casting, and other things for 'the Muggles' own good.' It was like anyone without powers was a child to the wizards and witches, but Harry couldn't understand why.

Harry shook the thoughts from his mind as he started dinner preparations. It wouldn't do to burn something or hurt himself because he was distracted by dark thoughts. He was sure that his uncle would be happy with the desks that had come that day. Both were set up and ready to be put to use. He was hoping that the happy surprise would help get his uncle to talk again.

Other than that, Harry had the classifieds from the three magical newspapers open and had spent the day finding adds both looking for tutors and advertising tutoring services. He didn't see anything about a British school other than Hogwarts. There were schools over on the Continent, but nothing closer. It wasn't welcome news.

"Harry," Vernon said as he came in the kitchen, "You're not going to be punished," He said gruffly. "I just needed time to think and I didn't want to say something that would hurt you."

"Oh, good. I really didn't mean to wander there, at first." Harry said apologetically.

"I know. But you also saw a good opportunity and took it. I can appreciate that. I don't want you there again unless you have an emergency or unless I'm with you." Vernon said. Harry nodded at the new rule.

"I looked through the paper, there are a few tutoring services and agencies. But they seem to specialize in grammar school age and non-magical children." Harry said as he put his uncle's plate before him.

"I saw that. But I'll see if we can't place an advert in the papers. You still have that big bag of money?," at Harry's nod, he continued, "Good, that book said you just have to take tests at the end of each school year and send the results into the Department of Wizarding Education. It didn't say you had to go to that school."

"True."

"Starting Monday, I've got the next week off. We'll pay for four days of run time, to start on Saturday." Vernon said, "All the papers said something about owl post."

"Yeah, we can either buy and owl or go to the post office." Harry said, " Either way, we have to go back to that shopping district."

"I'm not happy about that, but I understand. But when we go you are wearing your hat and sunglasses if the weather isn't too unsuitable. I don't much like the tone of that book when it comes to you. Nor, that 'Harry Potter Sightings' column in that one paper."

"I'm not thrilled with it either. I don't want to be famous for that. I'd rather be world famous for my clothing line or art work."

"The future Ralph Lauren?" Vernon said with a sardonic smile.

"See, even you know about him!" Harry crowed with his spoon in the air. Vernon chuckled.

"Only because you went on and on about him for a month and at least ten of your books are about him."

"He's my hero." Harry said with a slight defensive tone.

"There are worse heroes to have." Vernon said with a smile. Harry grinned as he continued to eat with a gusto he had not had since he had come home from that last shopping trip. It felt good to be on good terms with his uncle again, and even better not to be in trouble.

--ooOo Part Ten oOoo—

Harry sat in his room, he and Vernon agreed that for now he'd say out of sight of the interviewees. It wasn't a hard choice. Vernon was right in assuming that the magical culture's obsession with the 'Boy Who Lived' was a bit more than page 2 tabloid fodder.

He had with him the listening half of a baby monitor system, and was keeping notes of the interviews. Half way through each, Vernon excused himself and picked up a tray of tea from the kitchen and a list of Harry's questions from the boy's room.

It was a system that was working well. At the end of the day, Vernon ordered out for curry and he and Harry compared notes. Overall, they were getting mostly people who were really only used to dealing with younger children of the blue-blooded families. They all expressed doubt and dismay at the thought of a wizard-child not going to Hogwarts by choice.

It wasn't until the fourth day of interviews that they found a promising candidate. Conrad Hildebrandt asked to come after sunset, it was the first of many things that set him apart.

"First of all, you must be informed that I am a bitten vampire." The tall bean pole of a man announced as he walked into the apartment. Vernon was slightly shocked by the declaration.

"Is this a bad thing?" Vernon asked. Hildebrandt waved a hand carelessly, as if to brush away the words.

"Wrong question. You need to ask if I kill to eat, or if I mean to kill you and your ward, who is in this domicile & listening in." the man said with an authoritative tone, "And to that, I must answer, 'as far as I know, no to both. But the future is hard to predict.'"

"Oh."

"Come on out little wizard-child. I want to see what I might be subjecting myself for the next five to seven years." The vampire said.

"Might as well, Harry." Vernon said. A moment later Harry was sitting with the adults.

"I see. You had a very good reason for hiding. You had no way to know who might sell your location to the press or an ill-intentioned wizard." The vampire nodded, "It's good to see that you both have a bit of common sense."

"Er, thanks, Mr. Hildebrandt." Harry said.

"Bitte. Now, about me. I can only teach from sundown to sunrise or in a windowless room. I'm fully qualified to teach most aspects of magical education in most countries on the continent as well as Great Brittan. I've been teaching off and on for the last fifteen hundred years, give or take a decade or two.

"My teaching qualifications are still active here because they have no expiration dates, but it is no matter because the subjects are largely the same as they were nine hundred years ago. That's not to say there have been no advancements, it just the core matters haven't changed like the mundane maths & sciences, which I also hold qualifications in.

"So, you can expect a well grounded and very competitive education, so long as you can keep up. I will not lie. My style doesn't suit all. I'm demanding, bitter, and old as dirt. I will expect you to learn Latin in the first year of your education so that I may instruct you out of original texts and hold discourse in a language better suited to the skills. There will be days where I just make you do drills or lines. I will not be nice."

Harry gulped. Hildebrandt's description was kind of scary, but then again it would allow him to stay home. He looked at Vernon who looked like he was deep in thought.

"If you and I don't suit each other, will you help me find another tutor?" Harry asked. Hildebrandt smiled and Harry saw his long eyeteeth glimmer.

"Der Junge ist washsam. I will agree to stay on if we do not suit on another & aide you in your next hunt, but only if we both put our all into trying first and all three of us can agree that it is through no fault of any of us."

"Make sense." Vernon said, "I can add that to the contact."

"Gut. Now. What mundane school is so enticing that the threats from Hogwarts do not compare?"

"The London Academy of Fine Arts." Harry said, "I'm going for Fashion, Textile, and Mixed Media studies. I'm also part of a martial arts club. The school also offers advanced math courses that the other art schools didn't."

"Good. Mathematics will come in to play with the magic skills as well."

"But not the arts?" Vernon asked.

"It can. Sorcier métiers are getting rare because crafting takes manual skill and older magical skills than are taught in the modern styles. Creating true magical items of power is very enviable and something I can teach you the rudiments of. But you'll need to do more than just the modern styles of art. You'll also need to know how to create each physical part manually without using magic to fudge the process too." Hildebrandt grinned at the boy, "I've not taught a true sorcier métier in five hundred years."

"Is this a real carrier path that Harry can pursue?" Vernon asked.

"Yes and no. Most don't know what a sorcier métier beyond old stories and vague historical texts. But once he starts creating things and once people see his skill, he will be sought out by any and everyone looking for quick answers or a fix to an issue long thought unfixable. It will also depend on what he focuses his skills on."

"I see. So he could theoretically have both a mundane career and a magical one?" Vernon said.

"Yes. With ease. But there are other options boy. I will spend part of the first two years explaining magical careers and your options. Then we will settle into a kind of apprenticeship. Everything you will learn will either help you pass your tests or be used in your chosen field."

"What if I change my mind later on?" Harry asked.

"You will not have that luxury due to the intensity that we will pursue your future. It is the joy and the bane of one on one schooling. Also, we will be learning faster than your peers because of the time you will be devoting to your mundane studies." Hildebrandt shrugged, "It's again a joy and a bane, Junge."

"Will his magical studies intersect will his mundane schooling?" asked Vernon.

"It is possible. There might very well be times when you can combine objectives and I do look forward to doing so, but the chances are that will not happen until the later years once a solid foundation is laid."

The rest of the evening was spent with both his uncle and his possible tutor interrogating each other over the details and going line by line over the contact. Both had an eye for detail that was exhausting to watch for Harry. Before he knew it, he was awakened by his uncle to say 'good-bye' to Hildebrandt and was pushed off to bed. He fell asleep to the soothing sounds of two very different male voices quibbling over trifling factors.

--ooOo Part Eleven oOoo—

"Junge, stay close. The place we go to is not safe for one such as you." Hildebrandt said quietly as he held out a ticket from the Tube for Harry to touch. He said it was something called a Portkey and that it would not be a favorite method of travel. Harry took a deep breath as he reached out his hand.

"Okay," Harry breathed as he placed his hand in Hildebrandt's. He had never noticed before, but the long fingers looked almost like claws on a cat. It was odd to Harry's mind how he kept noting new aspects to his tutor's features and how none of them were peaceful.

In almost an instant, Harry felt something hook just behind is navel and a great force yanked him though a corridor of rushing lights and sounds. It was like nothing he had ever seen or felt before and very disconcerting. Just as he thought he was getting a hold on the new experience, it stopped just as suddenly as it started. Harry knew at that moment that Portkey travel was going to be his least favorite method of travel. But Hildebrandt had said it was necessary to get his wand and a few warding crystals.

The trip was part of the contract, the vampire was to take Harry shopping when necessary and teach him of interaction in the modern magical culture. It was also part of the contract that if at all possible they would stay away from British magical areas because neither Uncle Vernon nor Hildebrandt trusted the British with Harry's life and sanity. So that was why they were now in Stuttgart's Hexerei Einkaufszentrum.

It was the one place that Hildebrandt felt was relatively safe, so long as Harry kept his hat and enchanted glasses on. Glass was not easy to enchant, but the frames were a mix of metal, wood, and horn. Metal was iron to guard against glamours and other illusion magic. The wood was apple cut on the third quarter of the moon; this was wood that held charms of disguise well. It was charmed with a Notice-Me-Not and something that made anyone he didn't know doubt that their identification of him. The horn was from a rhinoceros and its strength protected him and held a few spells to ward off a limited number of hexes. To top it off there were runes of protection in delicate green wires along the arms.

Some of the magic Harry had helped to craft, and the design was all his. It was something he was very proud of. It was very old magic, but the subtlety of it was just what was needed. Besides, it was a good example of what his tutor could teach him that a school just couldn't.

Hildebrandt steered Harry through the people and into a shop full of glass shelves, clear boxes, and light colored woods. In the center of the shop was a glass and chrome table with four high-backed chairs of cream ostrich leather. In two of the chairs were twin women with white lab coats, moss green blouses, and white trousers. Both stood up and their loosely curled nut-brown hair fell about their shoulders in a way Harry thought was practiced.

"Herr Hildebrandt, you are on time." Said one twin with an insincere smile.

"For once." Said the other with a bored tone, "And if your student would remove his charms, we can get started."

"Harry can not see without his eyeglasses." Hildebrandt said, "I didn't know that a few protections could block magic such as yours, Petra."

"It can't block us, but it will interfere with how the magic of the materium and the testing will not work as well as it could." Said the twin who smiled.

"I see. You always were the more personable one, Karin," Hildebrandt turned to look at Harry, "Remove your hat and eyeglasses, Junge."

Harry nodded and removed the two items and gave them to his tutor. Two cold, thin, and small hands pulled him forward and he followed their blurred forms to a seat.

"We will blindfold you." Said the bored voice of Petra.

"It will take away the discomfort of the blurriness and stop your eyes from squinting so hard." Said the more kind voice of Karin.

Soon a soft fleece cloth was tied around his head and he darkness eased the developing headache. He relaxed into the soft chair and waited to be told what to do next. Beside him, he felt Hildebrandt sit and the vampire started describing what was going on as he listened to the soft clicks of glass against glass and the tapping of the twins' hard soled shoes against the marble tiles.

Finally, the noise stopped and Harry's hands were guided to rest the table's cold top by his tutor. "In front of you are several materium cubes. Meditate on which one resonates with your physical being." Petra's chilly tone rang out in the silent room.

"You will not touch the cubes. Just let your hands glide through their energy fields. Herr Hildebrandt, please show him how low he can let his hands go," Karin's slightly warmer voice requested.

Harry let his hands be guided over the table; he could go no lower than maybe four inches. Hildebrandt told him that it was going to be like feeling for the energy of the runes that he had chosen. He would just have to feel the energy that wanted to help him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry started to let himself slip into that place where the world seemed to slow and where he felt that the magic was strongest. He knew that instead of the chill he got from the runes, he was searching for a warm energy, a pulse that had life and sunlight.

He stopped. His hands were basking in the feel of an energy that seemed to sing with the reverberation of compatibility.

"Ah, specimen number eight thousand five hundred sixteen." Said Petra, but he voice was warming up.

"Very good, Junge. This method suits you so much more than the British ready-made ideas," Hildebrandt said with a fond tone.

"Now, we have placed in front of you a new selection of materium. Please meditate on which one resonates with your intellectual being." Said Karin.


End file.
